


Minefields

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [265]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Cage Trauma, D/s, Dissociation, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Panic, Safewording, Sub Sam, dom Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: This usually helps Sam relax. Makes him feel good, which is always Cas' goal.Tonight, Sam's suddenly not here.





	

Cas realizes with a sudden intense dropping feeling in his stomach that Sam is no longer with him. Sure, Sam hasn’t said his safeword, but he hasn’t said anything else, either. Not even moaning. And, if Cas is doing this right, he always wants to hear Sam moaning. Pleading, too, usually.

Cas stops immediately. “Red, Sam,” he says, using Sam’s safeword that he supposes is technically his too, even if he’s never had occasion or need to say it. He hopes hearing it will get Sam to react. Nothing.

“Sam?” he asks, pulling away from Sam so he can move up his body, look into Sam’s eyes. They’re wide and blank, distant. Cas snaps his fingers in front of Sam’s face. “Sam!”

Sam blinks, and Cas sighs his relief. “Sorry,” Sam mutters, turning his head. “Sorry, sorry–keep going, I can–”

“No,” Cas says firmly. He’s not supposed to be in charge once they’re done, but he thinks at this moment, he needs to be the rational one. Sam needs him, and Cas is always willing to give. “We’re done. Let me untie you.”

Sam’s only bound with scarves, thin and easily rippable, but Cas should know better. Sam didn’t rip them. He didn’t even struggle with them. He just went limp.

They untie easy, and Cas brings Sam’s arms down, kissing his wrists, rubbing them gently even if the scarves certainly didn’t lessen his circulation. “You want some water?” Cas asks.

Sam opens his mouth, but doesn’t answer. Cas hopes that means yes. Sam should have some water, anyways. He gets the bottle he left on the nightstand earlier, handing it to Sam, helping him sit up enough to drink it.

Sam hands it back half empty. “I’m good, I’m good,” he says. “Sorry, I–”

“You’re not good,” Cas says. “You don’t need to be sorry, either. Can you tell me what happened?”

Sam shrugs, still not looking at Cas. “I got…lost. It felt like…It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what did it.”

Cas doesn’t need him to complete his sentences. He knows well enough, and honestly, it’s practically a miracle that this hasn’t happened before. “What did I do?” he presses. “Sam, you have to tell me so I don’t do it again.”

Sam shrugs. “Maybe it was…the grace? Or being tied. Or just having sex. Or it just happened. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” Cas offers mechanically. “You don’t need to be sorry. Sam, we’ve done all those things before.” And it had never drawn this reaction. Or perhaps it had, and Cas had been too selfish, too unobservant, too stupid to notice what he was doing to his beloved Sam.

Sam shrugs again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mutters. “It just happened.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Cas says fiercely, but then modulates his tone when Sam tenses. “Nothing, Sam,” he says, rubbing his hands along Sam’s spine. “You are perfect.”

“I ruined your night,” Sam says.

“No,” Cas says firmly. “ _I_ may have ruined something. I did; I did something to scare you and I didn’t realize it. And I am so sorry, Sam. I should never let it get that far.”

“Not your fault,” Sam says. He’s softening in Cas’ arms, body no longer limp and fearful, but rather soft and yielding, turning into Cas for comfort.

“Perhaps not,” Cas allows. He knows who is at fault. His brother. Lucifer. Someone who will never see the light of day again, and Cas is grateful for that. Someone who will suffer for eternity, alone, as he deserves. “But I should be more alert. I should know you better, Sam.”

He sighs. This isn’t the discussion for right now, no matter how much it’s on his mind. His first priority should be to take care of Sam. “We’re done for the night, Sam,” he says firmly. “Would you like a bath, or just to go to sleep? Some food?” He offers.

Sam blinks. “A bath…that sounds…”

Cas can carry Sam with ease, even if the human is bigger than his vessel. So he carries him to the bathroom, and sits him on the counter while he gets the tub filled.

Baths are not new to them. Baths as foreplay, or baths afterwards, But afterwards, both of them are usually relaxed and satiated, Sam coming back fully to himself, happy and relaxed in a way he has such trouble being. Not tonight.

Tonight, they are both tense and guilty, even if Sam has no need to be. They’re on edge and waiting for something to break.

Cas sighs. Sam’s right. He couldn’t have known what would happen. Still, he will be better in the future, he will watch closer, he will know, because taking care of Sam like this is his first priority.

And the usual methods of relaxing Sam might not have worked tonight. But Cas wonders if a good bath, just warm and gentle and calming, can at least do half the effort.

He’s determined to try. Taking care of Sam, making him feel good, is always his first priority.


End file.
